Tragic Set of Charms
by Steph-Schell
Summary: Charlie doesn't want to marry a boy she doesn't know. Even if he's Monroe's son.


**A/N: **Prequel to "That Special Kind of Sadness"

* * *

The room was as beautiful as her dress but Charlie couldn't see any of it. All she could see was blood. Her father's blood soaking into the carpet as his killer stood above him. Tom Neville's blood as her bullet lodged in his chest. Danny's blood as the life support stopped working and his lungs gave up the ghost. Blood on her wedding day. How oddly appropriate for the life she was stuck in.

She blinked and Miles was sitting in front of her. She almost didn't recognize him in his tux. "You look good," he told her.

"The sacrificial lamb always has to look pretty," she countered.

"You always this much fun?"

Charlie stared at him. "They killed your brother," she stated. "Your real brother. My father is dead and you let that happen."

"Yes I did," Miles nodded.

"You're worthless alcoholic mafia boss who's took weak willed to stand up to his brother's killer."

"Sounds about right."

Charlie pulled a gun from under her white skirts and aimed it at him. "I could shoot you right now."

"You could," he agreed.

"You know I won't miss at this range. Then it'll be you bleeding out on that floor."

Miles spread his arms wide. "Do it, Charlotte. Kill me."

She wanted to. All she had to do was pull a trigger and run. Sebastian would be so crazy with grief he wouldn't think to look for her until she was deep in witness protection. But in the end, she lowered her gun. Miles was trash. But he was all she had left. She couldn't even trust her mother anymore. At least Miles was predictable. "I won't always be weak," she warned him. "One day…one day I will pull that trigger."

"I certainly hope so. But today isn't that day. Today you get married."

Charlie sighed as she tucked the gun back under her skirts. She had never met this son of Sebastian Monroe before. Never even knew he existed until now. Most mob bosses would brag to everyone about how perfect their son was in everything. But there was barely a whisper about this Monroe boy. A lot of people thought he had died back with his mother. Charlie wondered if that was because he was stupid or ugly. Or both. She glanced at Miles as he took her arm but knew he wouldn't be any help. If he wanted her to know about the man she was marrying, he would have told her by now.

The organ began to play her entrance and Charlie started forward with Miles. The light from the stain glass windows was blinding at first and she couldn't see her groom. Then her eyes adjusted so she could focus on the altar. He was handsome; she had to give him that. The Monroe heir had sharp features, thick black curls and his father's full mouth. Charlie wasn't a huge fan of stubble but it looked good on him. His eyes were brown and warm. Or at least she thought they were before they shuttered away again.

"Who gives away this woman to be married?" the priest asked.

"I do," Miles replied. He kissed Charlie's hand before placing it in her soon to be husband's. It was an oddly sweet gesture for such a jackass. "Take care of her kid."

The younger man didn't answer, just looked at Miles then focusing on Charlie. Miles went to sit on the left in the front pew next to Nora. Charlie didn't have to look behind her groom to know Sebastian was sitting up in front with her mother next to him. She was tempted to risk a glance to see if Duncan was doing her blatancy thing again but then she'd have to see Sebastian and Rachel. Vomiting was generally considered bad form on your wedding day.

Charlie honestly didn't remember much of ceremony after that. She vaguely realized her new husband's name was Connor which was nice to know considering she was stuck with him now. As they stood there accepting well wishes from guests, Charlie tried to at least look happy. She even managed a real-albeit small-smile when Nora embraced her. Duncan came sidling up next, in a stunning silver dress that showed off plenty of cleavage. Duncan embraced Connor first; whispering in his ear and making him smile the tiniest bit. Then she turned to Charlie. The look she gave was enough. Duncan knew what it was like to be in life you hated. It was why she clawed her way to the top and Sebastian Monroe's bed.

The reception was almost as much of a blur as the wedding. But this time it was because Charlie was deliberately blocking it all out. She still knew nothing about this man she was supposed to the rest of her life with. He didn't speak to her all night but he held her hand during the dinner, squeezed it during the toasts-something she was sure he hated as much as she did-even danced with her a few times. His hands were warm and his arms strong. Charlie should have felt protected. It just made her wonder more about him. She didn't think Miles would make her marry a man that would beat or mock her. But then, she didn't used to think that he would allow Sebastian Monroe to kill her father. You never really knew with people these days.

The ride home was just as silent as the reception. Charlie had to consider that maybe he was too stupid to talk. Or he had never learned. Connor had laughed once during the reception so she knew he had all his teeth and what looked like a working tongue. If this was a medical condition, it didn't have anything to do with his mouth. Charlie looked away when he glanced at her. She was not staring at him. Not at all.

He took her hand and led her inside the apartment building. So much for a honeymoon. But honestly, what would she do with a month in some sappy romantic vacation with a guy that barely acknowledged her? Better that they both dived back into work. Though her thoughts were slightly distracted by the way he kept a hold of her hand on the long ride up to the penthouse.

As soon as they were inside, he let go and began stripping off some of his layers. By the time he had hit the whiskey on the far wall, he was down to his vest, shirt and slacks. The shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and he had rolled his sleeves up. Charlie had to admit that the disheveled look was good on him.

Unsure of what to do now, she gathered her skirts and settled on a near by ottoman. Hopefully he would give her a grand tour of the place at some point. Or at least take her to the bedroom so she could sleep. They were going to sleep, weren't they? She couldn't really refuse him if he wanted sex. They were married now. Her mother had lectured her on making sure her new husband was happy. That probably included giving him sex when he wanted it. Charlie was no shrinking violet in any sense of the word but she wasn't sure she was ready to openly defy the son of Sebastian Monroe like that just yet.

She was so mired in her own thoughts; it wasn't until she looked back at him that she realized the rumbling in her ears had been Connor speaking. "What?"

Connor held up the decanter. "I asked if you wanted a drink."

"Oh, yes please."

He nodded and turned to pour her a tumbler of whiskey. He handed it to her with a soft smile. "Your dress is very pretty. I meant to tell you that earlier."

Charlie glanced down at her dress. Her mother had picked it out for her and she had never bothered to really look at it. The skirt was so full it looked like more of a circus tent than a dress. But the corset top was practically encrusted in silver which continued down on the skirt. All in all, not a bad dress but Charlie would have preferred something a little more form fitting. "Thank you," she replied.

"I'm sorry if I seemed stand offish all day. I don't like to talk much. Especially around The Family. Too many people wanting to increase their fortunes at my expense. It's easier to keep my mouth shut than guard every word I say."

"It's…it's fine, really."

Connor sat across from her. "My dad used to play catch with me," he said wistfully.

"Huh?"

He looked at his drink then back at her. "Did anyone ever tell you about my mother, Charlotte?"

"Emma Bennett, Sebastian Monroe's first wife," she replied automatically.

"That's her," Connor nodded. "Anyone tell you how she died?"

"She was killed."

Again Connor nodded. "My mother was beautiful," he stated. "And kind and loving and such a wonderfully gentle soul. My father used to look at her like she hung the stars in the sky. And she looked right back with same feeling." He took a drink of whiskey. "Woman didn't have the wits God gave an ameba."

Charlie let out a startled laugh. "I…I didn't—"

Connor gave her a pained smile. "It's okay. I was actually going to for funny. Anyway, my sweet, patient mother did not like the life we were in. For a lot of reasons. And she kept begging my father to leave. Told him to turn state's evidence. Swore they would protect us." He snorted as he took another drink. "People couldn't protect a roach in New York City. But then my sisters were born and Dad couldn't ignore her warnings anymore."

"You had sisters?"

"Twins. Two years younger than me. Anyway, I was five when Dad decided to run. And run we did. Didn't get far of course before the old Don's leg breakers caught up with us. If it had just been my parents, they would have kept running I think. But they had three small kids with them. SO they gave in." Charlie noticed his hands shaking slightly but said nothing. "My father tried to protect me as mom and the girls were ripped from us. But some things you don't forget. I didn't see my mother die but I heard the shots that killed her and my sisters. I heard my father scream. I was pressed so tightly to his chest, I could smell his sweat. And his fear." Another drink of whiskey. "My father changed that day. He swore vengeance for my mother and sisters. And he got it too. Killed the old Don, took his place…even has a brand new wife and a mistress to boot." Connor's look turned wistful once more. "But I miss the man that used to come home and play catch with me."

"I'm sorry," Charlie murmured.

Connor covered one of her hands with his own. "I just wanted you to know you're not alone. I heard about your father. And I understand. I…I also wanted you to know that you're not the only one who had no say in this marriage."

"Your father didn't give you a choice?"

"No more than I imagine your mother did. But I hope we can make this work." He paused. "I'd like us to be friends, Charlotte. If we can't be in love, I'll settle for that."

"How do you know I don't love you?"

"You certainly don't look like a woman in love." Connor smiled. "But it's okay. We don't know each other. And love at first sight is just a myth. We might fall in love though." He sipped his whiskey. "Can I ask about him?"

"About who?"

"Charlotte, I know I'm not the one you want to be with. So I'd like to at least know the name of the person you would like to be with."

Charlie looked down at her whiskey. "Jason Neville. He was killed last year."

"Tom Neville's son?"

"That's him. I nearly had my mother convinced to let me marry him."

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Charlotte."

"Charlie," she corrected.

"Huh?"

"My friends usually call me Charlie."

"Charlie then," he nodded. "Look, I promise I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. I don't believe in rape or abuse. We have to share this home but that's it. You don't even have to see me at all if you don't want to. Although I've heard you don't much like doing hits. IF you want to switch careers, I run an illegal gambling ring for my father. You'd just have to look pretty and be polite while you fleece people of their money."

"How do you know that I don't like my job now?"

"Don't you know anything about me?" Connor asked with a smirk as he leaned back.

"Not really," Charlie admitted. "When my mother told me I was getting married…I just ignored really. I guess I was hoping if I didn't pay attention, it wasn't going to happen."

"Well, I'm a little hurt, I have to say. I asked so many questions about you my dad started to get annoyed."

Charlie couldn't help but feel a little flattered at that statement. "Well, I have our entire lives to get to know you."

"Yes you do," Connor agreed. "But we should probably figure out where the bedrooms are in this place."

"This isn't your home?"

"Hell no. I used to live in a much smaller place but my dad insisted I needed something better since I was getting married. We don't agree on much anymore but I figured he was right on that. After all, who wants to live in a shoebox apartment when they could have the penthouse?"

"I suppose you're right. But wouldn't you rather talk?"

"Our honey moon starts tomorrow. I told Dad we'd need some time to rest. Good news is he's getting us a private flight."

"That'll be nice at least."

"I like to think so. So let's get some sleep and tomorrow we'll figure out the rest of this insantity."


End file.
